Water Water Everywhere

I had just finished third grade when the Great Flood of 1993 occurred. Because I was only eight years old, I didn't really have a good understanding of the devastation that was actually happening. That summer, as thousands along the Mississippi River tried to piece together their lives again, my sister and friends and I invented a game that we (perhaps inappropriately) called Mississippi Flood. And goodness, it was fun! It basically involved us "living" on the stairs in the corner of the shallow end of the pool, pretending that those were indeed the steps to our house and the rest of the "rooms" were already under water. And then we'd have to save each other from the raging torrents (i.e., my sister holding onto the pool's edge and kicking furiously) that constantly threatened to sweep us away.

This is what I thought of when I was driving to work this morning in the pouring rain and had to take a long detour through the suburbs because a portion of the road had been washed away. Yes, that's right, WASHED AWAY. Natural disasters such as this do not happen here. Sure, we get the occasional tornado warning, but flood warnings here in the city are few and far between and ACTUAL FLOODS are nonexistant. (Ironically, the road that is now sans one section is the same road on which the country club where we played Mississippi Flood is located. Creepy, no?) I can just imagine a slab of pavement with a sad little squirrel perched atop it, holding on for dear life as his surfboard of fate rides the frothy, raging Scioto River towards Destiny. And the reservoir.